


Force of Will

by ficbear



Category: Samurai Warriors, Warriors Orochi
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Bondage, Cock Rings, Demon Sex, Demons, Dubious Consent, Group Sex, M/M, Mind Control, Older Man/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rimming, Ritual Sex, Sex Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-18
Updated: 2012-04-18
Packaged: 2017-11-03 21:20:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficbear/pseuds/ficbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can feel a faint echo of something in his past, of kneeling at someone else's feet, but it all seems so far away, and Kiyomori's presence easily drowns out the few memories that remain. Now his mind holds only the desire to serve his lord, and that longing burns fiercely inside Yukimura.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Force of Will

The room blazes with lights that hover in the air like the flames of ghostly candles, and the scent of incense is thick in the air. His lord stands in the centre of the room, and framed by an ornate, almost monstrous altar. Like so much else in Kiyomori's castle, the altar seems alien to Yukimura, and his eyes linger on the twisted lines of its contours as he approaches his lord. Everything here is strange and unfamiliar, but no matter how many unsettling sights Yukimura encounters in the castle, nothing can dampen his desire to serve Kiyomori. Dropping to his knees before his lord, Yukimura bows his head. He can feel a faint echo of something in his past, of kneeling at someone else's feet, but it all seems so far away, and Kiyomori's presence easily drowns out the few memories that remain. Now his mind holds only the desire to serve his lord, and that longing burns fiercely inside Yukimura.

"Ah, my most prized puppet." Kiyomori grips the young man's chin and tilts his head up, studying Yukimura's face for a moment. "You are as vehement in your obedience as you were in your resistance, aren't you?"

"Yes, my lord." The words leave his lips immediately, automatically.

Kiyomori gives a deep chuckle, and gestures to the demon guards beside him. "Prepare the boy."

Yukimura holds still as the demons swarm around him, complying with every pull and shove of their cold hands, but despite his cooperation they seem to revel in stripping him with needless force. It seems strange to him, but the roughness of their touch pleases his body in a peculiarly familiar way. Each bit of flesh those cool fingers grab and push seems to blaze with sensation, and Yukimura is aroused by the time the last garment is ripped away.

"As eager as always…" Kiyomori says, taking his seat.

The demons push Yukimura back onto the altar and arrange him across its length, pulling at his arms and legs so that he is stretched out and utterly exposed. They bind him deftly, wrapping his limbs with length after length of rope, until his flesh is criss-crossed with thick lines of red and black. He pulls instinctively against his bonds, despite having no intention of resisting; somehow the touch of the rope provokes his body, and he pushes against it as if leaning into a tight embrace. Yukimura thrusts up eagerly as cool hands grip and stroke his cock. The demons fasten a thin band of leather around the base of his cock, just tightly enough to drive a little murmur of protest from the young man's lips, and his complaint only earns a peal of cruel laughter. Strange symbols decorate the leather, and as the strap is cinched into place, the glyphs seem to ripple and shimmer within the fabric.

The demons pause, and the silence surrounds them for a moment, before the deep, low sound of chanting fills the room. Straining forward against the ropes, Yukimura can just make out the seated form of his lord, as still as if he were a stone carving. The demons seem to take the chant as a cue to begin their task in earnest, and Yukimura's body is besieged by firm hands and hungry mouths. The words of the chant are incomprehensible to him, but he can feel the power in them, almost as if it flows into him through the cold marble of the altar.

The demon at the foot of the altar leans forward, holding Yukimura in place with a strong hand on each thigh, and begins to lap at the young man's ass, tormenting him with that forked tongue until Yukimura is whimpering in pleasure. A second demon leans over him, swallowing Yukimura's cock to the hilt in one stroke, and all the young man can feel is cool, wet skin against his own, sucking and licking every inch of sensitive flesh until the sensation threatens to overwhelm him. He arches up against them, pushing further into the soft throat engulfing him, and cries out in frustration as he feels his rapidly building pleasure suddenly hit an insurmountable ceiling; the leather band around his cock exerts its power over him like a tight leash, and it feels almost burning hot against his skin as it keeps him permanently at the edge of satisfaction.

Kiyomori's chanting grows louder, and Yukimura's moans sound all the more desperate against the steady rhythm of the old man's words. The chant is monotone and the words themselves are strange to him, but nevertheless Yukimura can hear the malevolence in each line, as clearly as if he knew each word by heart. The sound reverberates through his mind, filling him with the strangest mixture of fear and desire, seeping through his flesh like a slow, creeping poison.  He cries out as sharp-nailed hands grab his head, pulling it to one side, and his lips are forced to part around the head of the demon's cock. Taking it eagerly, Yukimura stretches out his tongue to lick at the shaft of it, and is rewarded by a harsh groan from the demon above him.

The tongue lapping at his ass withdraws, abruptly replaced by the slick, wet tip of another demon's cock. It pushes forward roughly, impaling Yukimura quickly enough that the young man's body winces and protests against the sudden invasion. The demon fucks his ass hard and fast from the first stroke, gripping Yukimura's thighs with nails like talons, pounding into the young man as if he means to break him. Matching his comrade's pace, the demon fucking Yukimura's mouth tightens his grip and thrusts in harder, forcing the young man's throat to accept him. Moaning against the hard flesh filling him, even as he chokes around it, Yukimura writhes and twists beneath them. The pleasure is too much, and he would have been spent long ago, were it not for the leather band keeping him trapped at the precipice.

The demon above him hisses a bitter curse, and suddenly Yukimura's mouth is flooded with come. He struggles vainly to drink each pulse of it, but he cannot swallow it all, and the last few sprays of come spill out across his face, coating his cheeks and chin. The demon buried in his ass follows close behind, filling the air with ragged groans as he comes, letting loose a torrent of cool seed deep inside the young man. Once spent, the demons withdraw, and are quickly replaced by more; before his body has a chance to adjust to the sudden emptiness, Yukimura finds himself filled to the hilt again, swallowing another demon's cock while a fourth takes his ass. His flesh is slick with come, and this time it yields to the demons' onslaught easily. Only the insistent pressure of the leather band around his cock mars the pleasure of the demons' attentions, and he moans desperately against the hard shaft in his mouth, begging incoherently for the strap's removal. Abruptly, the chanting stops, and for a moment the young man believes he might get his wish.

The demon at the foot of the altar pulls back, leaving his ass empty once more. Whimpering around the cock buried in his throat, Yukimura braces himself as the old man takes the demon's place. Kiyomori's body is hot and rough where the demon had been cool and smooth, and the contrast only stokes the fire of his hunger. The old man's cock sinks into him, slowly and steadily, forcing Yukimura's ass to spread wide around the thick shaft of it, and he groans and writhes under its assault until the whole of it is buried inside him. The heat and pressure of it drive Yukimura half-mad with need, driving cry after muffled cry from his lips as Kiyomori begins to fuck him. The old man sets a steady, grinding pace, drawing out almost entirely with each stroke, then thrusting back in as if he were meant to slowly tear Yukimura in two.

Another hissed curse sounds above the young man, and Yukimura finds his mouth filled again as the third demon comes. He swallows desperately, and tries frantically to catch his breath as his mouth is finally left empty for a moment.

"Lord Kiyomori!" He cries, hoarse and panting. "Lord Kiyomori, it's too much, I can't take it—"

Another demon grabs hold of his head, cutting off his words and forcing yet another hard shaft into Yukimura's mouth. He moans in frustration, but his lord merely laughs.

"You can take anything I inflict on you, boy." The old man says, his own voice low and harsh with exertion. "If you couldn't, I'd have cast you aside by now."

Yukimura groans and yelps, twisting against his bonds, pushing against the hard flesh assaulting him from all sides, and thrusts up harder into the cool, wet embrace of the mouth still enveloping his own cock. Sensation upon sensation is heaped on him, and yet satisfaction remains out of reach, no matter how many convulsions of pleasure wrack his body.

"The Tiger of Kai prized you for your force of will," Kiyomori says, slamming harder into the young man's ass, "and that same determination is what makes you the most valuable of all my puppets."

The whole of Yukimura's body is feverishly hot, as if he has been drinking venom in every spray of come he swallowed, and his limbs tremble in their bonds. He twists and writhes beneath his lord, grinding his hips up against the old man's own, desperate to earn Kiyomori's satisfaction and so perhaps his own.

"Now, boy." Kiyomori orders. "Come for me."

The cool mouth working over Yukimura's cock withdraws, replaced by his lord's rough hand, and at last the leather band is released. Yukimura arches up off the altar and cries out, his choked sobs muffled against the flesh of the demon fucking his mouth, bucking and shuddering violently as his climax finally overwhelms him. The heat of Kiyomori's seed floods into him, filling his ass with spray after seething spray as his own come spatters across his chest. The old man gives a low, rumbling groan like thunder, and at last is still.

"It is done." Kiyomori pulls back, looking down at the dazed young man with quiet approval. "Good work, my puppet."

Suddenly the lights hovering around them blaze brighter than ever, burning like stars, and the air shimmers and pulses with heat. Yukimura watches through half-closed eyes as the air ripples around them, radiating out from the altar, until the lights slowly begin to dissipate. They fade into the walls of the room as if the castle itself is absorbing them, like some monstrous plant gorging itself on sunlight. Bereft of energy, Yukimura falls back against the altar and closes his eyes, letting exhaustion pull him down into blackness, and not even the rough hands of the demon guards untying him can prevent the young man from slipping into a leaden, unnatural sleep.


End file.
